Pilgrim Trail To The Birthplace Of The Incas
The tranquil, gemlike waters of Lake Titicaca, which straddles the border between Peru and Bolivia, are sacred to many Andean cultures. The great lake was the cradle of Andean civilisation and remains enduringly known as the birthplace of the Inca empire. There are few higher ways to experience the intense serenity, almost spirituality, of the good lake and its islands is to retrace the best of the Inca pilgrimages: from Copacabana to the Sacred Rock of the Incas at the northern tip of the Island of the Solar.
This was my quest as I strode out alongside the coastal path from Copacabana, hurrying away from its clamour of vacationers, gift shops and trout eating places. After a stretch of dusty monitor, I climbed a slope onto a wooded headland, turned a corner and was immediately engulfed by the overwhelming solitude that’s Lake Titicaca. The thin air was still, the surface of the great lake unruffled. Not a sound interrupted the silence.
The undulating, twisting coastal path to Yampupata skirts cool woods and steep terraces that fall away sharply to small sandy beaches and the silent expanse of deep blue calmness. I passed occasional trout fisheries and peaceful bays clogged with characteristic totora reed beds. Some campesinos had been working small fields containing pigs, sheep, llamas and cows. Several families had been harvesting bright yellow oca (a candy potato), and the shore was dotted with wigwam-formed piles of dark green haba beanstalks drying within the blinding afternoon sun.
I handed the Gruta de Lourdes where I climbed as much as its small grotto, after which a protracted climb brought me to the summit of one other headland. I descended by way of the village of Titicachi where more families were out working small fields. By now, I was beginning to receive offers of boat journeys to the island, much more so as I entered close by Sicuani. Folks couldn’t perceive why I wanted to walk all the way to Yampupata fairly than leap into their boats. I pondered the same query myself as the final stage to Yampupata turned an ungainly slog up and around two sizeable headlands earlier than I finally descended into the scattered houses and seashore at Yampupata.
I had scarcely put down my pack when I was approached by Rogelio Paye, who provided to row me across to the island for Bs20 (US$2.50). It was now late afternoon. The hills above Yampupata glowed golden brown in the setting sun as we pushed away from the tiny pier. As we reached the middle of the icy lake, the Island of the Moon edged into view, beyond which rose the magnificent glinting mass of Illampu. We quickly lost the solar behind the island’s southern peak, although the sparkling diamond necklace of the Cordillera Real continued to gentle up the horizon.
Just as I was congratulating myself on how smoothly the day had gone, I found that Rogelio was solely planning to drop me at the southern tip of the island. This point – known as Punku, that means “gate” – was the place the unique pilgrims would have landed, though it is a few distance from the settlement of Yumani where I was staying. Although Rogelio complained of the additional distance, I (or somewhat the supply of some extra bolivianos) persuaded him to row me to the ruined palace of Pilko Kaina, the place Inca emperors stayed during their annual visits to the island.
Even after forty-five minutes of excessive-altitude rowing, Rogelio was not within the slightest bit out of breath and had not one bead of sweat on his forehead when we docked on the deserted pier. The sun had set utterly by the point I climbed up to the ruined palace. A locked gate barred the path to Yumani, and I used to be forced to clamber again down over large rocks to lake stage after which scramble up once more to succeed in it. It was darkish by the point I staggered exhausted into my Yumani hotel. By that point, my language and thoughts have been removed stone island soft shell r hooded jacket in black from pilgrim-like, although I reasoned that Inca pilgrims probably didn’t should haggle their boat journey throughout to the island and wrestle across closed paths.
Rain next morning delayed the beginning of my stroll to the religious complicated at the north of the Island of the Solar. With the rain abating, I climbed steeply out of Yumani following a campesino household, and almost at once lost the path along the ridge that runs the length of the island. I had to leap down several agricultural terraces (labored by very understanding and useful farmers) before I regained the right path.
Although I could see families busily working the land, once again the feeling was certainly one of intense serenity – nearly loneliness. The pungent aroma of koa – a herb with many medicinal advantages – filled the air, as did towering eucalyptus trees planted 300 years ago by Spanish conquistadores. I handed colourful bushes of kantuta, Bolivia’s national flower, which shows the crimson, yellow and green of the country’s flag.
Before long, I reached a effectively-maintained path lined on each sides with stones. I was walking by way of a delicate patchwork of steep tiny fields and terraces of different hues of inexperienced, yellow and brown, criss-crossed by stone terraces and zigzagging partitions tumbling down to fairly sand beaches and the lake’s intense blueness. Pigs, sheep, even cattle, crowded inside tiny enclosures. Llamas grazed quietly beside the monitor.
After passing deserted bays, silent passes and occasional ruins, I reached the squat Chincana ruins hugging the northern tip of the island. This labyrinth with myriad doorways leading to a maze of small chambers was a monastery for Inca priests. Trainees progressed by studying and ritual by the collection of rooms earlier than graduating as priests by passing by means of the higher room. Virgin nuns from the close by Island of the Moon weren’t always so fortunate. Several virgins from that island’s nunnery have been dropped at this site and sacrificed during the Inca’s annual visit.
Past the Chincana ruins, the Island of the Solar falls away to an inviting sandy beach, beyond which descend a few of the lake’s deepest waters. The north of the island is rife with Andean mythology. In response to the Inca creation legend, the primary Incas Manco Kapac and Mama Ocllo rose from the lake close to here below orders from the sun, and started their ministry after burying a gold chain and employees on the island.
I needed to ask a neighborhood man which of the encircling outcrops was the Sacred Rock, from which, in line with Inca mythology, rose the sun and moon. He pointed to the huge rock behind which I had been shading from the midday sun. Pilgrims would have placed offerings at the foot of the Sacred Rock. Unknowingly, I had sat on its hallowed surface.
The Sacred Rock would have been much simpler to establish in Inca instances, when one face was lined with gold and silver and the opposite lined with superb textiles. The side that once bore the valuable metals shows the images of two nice Andean deities: the bearded creator god Viracocha and a puma, symbol of vitality and intelligence. As soon as again, I had to ask for help in figuring out the pictures. The man picked up some stones and moderately disrespectfully lobbed them at the facial options of the sacred figures. Both deities suffered the indignity with fitting poise.
Arriving back in Yumani as night time fell, I gazed out once extra over the Island of the Moon, over which a full moon had fittingly risen right into a darkish sky smeared with stars. The moon’s reflection rippled over the calm lake floor, becoming a member of the Islands of the Sun and Moon in a shimmering bridge of gentle. Occasional flashes of lightning danced over the distant peaks of the Cordillera Actual. Even understanding nothing in regards to the island’s history and mythology, this was an intensely moving scene. With the Inca legends added in, the expertise verged on the spiritual.
Journey into remote, rugged and beautiful wilderness and hint the rise and fall of the glittering Inca empire. From the Incas’ legendary birthplace at Lake Titicaca, Inca Trails takes you across thrilling ranges of the Andes to the empire’s breathtaking pinnacle at Machu Picchu, and beyond to the Incas’ closing stand in the dense Vilcabamba forests.